"Where exactly is the evidence, Mr. Pierce?"
Miranda stood from her seat with the fluid grace of someone who had spent years commanding courtrooms and academic panels.
Her movement was so deliberate, so confident, that the entire chamber seemed to shift its attention to her like iron filings drawn to a magnet.
Pierce blinked, clearly caught off-guard by the directness of her challenge.
"Evidence? Dr. Whitman, we've presented... "
"Have you?" Miranda's interruption was seamless, professional, devastating.
"Because from where I sit, you've wasted considerable time on emotional speeches. Attempted to manipulate them into confessing to crimes they maintain they never committed. You even threatened them."
She moved from behind the panel table, positioning herself where she could address both Pierce and the other panel members.
"But actual evidence? Concrete proof of these alleged assaults? I'm still waiting."
